


Almost Heaven

by misato



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Light BDSM, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 04:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16361048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: It’s a hot, sticky July evening, and the mosquitos are eating their bare legs for supper.“Ferris wheel, darlin’?” Jesse asks, flicking the last two pink carnival tickets between his thumb and pointer finger.





	Almost Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy :)

It’s a hot, sticky July evening, and the mosquitos are eating their bare legs for supper.

“Ferris wheel, darlin’?” Jesse asks, flicking the last two pink carnival tickets between his thumb and pointer finger.

“I think I’ve suffered enough.”

“C’mon, doll. We might even get stuck at the top like in the movies.”

Hanzo gives him a look, exhaustion creeping under his eyes, a fleck of funnel cake sugar clinging to the corner of his mouth.

“Only jokin’,” Jesse chuckles, his grin toothy and devilish enough to make Hanzo’s heart flutter even in the dreadful heat. 

He leans forwards and cups Hanzo’s face, swiping a rough thumb over the man’s lip and sucking the sweet powdered sugar off his finger slowly.

“I’ll drive you home. I guess fairs ain’t exactly your thing after all.”

“One ride,” Hanzo decides, settling.

“You won’t regret it.”

The Ferris wheel is glittering and gigantic -- the belle of the ball. Jesse’s eyes gleam like he’s locked eyes with an opponent, guns barrel to barrel, and Hanzo marvels at the innocence in his smile. He’s fallen in love with Jesse’s cute little obsessions -- the way he says “horses” every time they drive past a stable, like he’s never seen them before in his life. Or his addiction to trashy reality television, the way he drowns his poor Eggo waffles in syrup every morning. Or how every time they settle down on the couch to watch a movie he tries to pull the old “yawn-and-reach” trick (as if Hanzo wouldn’t let him pull him close without rhyme or reason).

Of course he’ll swallow his pride and climb into the grimy plastic Ferris wheel seat if it means he gets to see his boyfriend smile like that. 

Jesse grins, hands the pair of little pink tickets to the man running the ride and climbs in besides him, slinging an arm around his shoulder and kissing the top of Hanzo’s head.

“You spoil me,” he says.

“Make it up to me later,” Hanzo whispers into his neck, and as the car starts moving, he squeezes his thigh through his blue jeans.

“Oh, I will, sweetheart,” Jesse growls, his voice rough. “I always take care of you, don’t I?”

Hanzo swallows as Jesse grips his shoulder tight.

“The view’s beautiful,” he says, his voice deep and placid.

The world glimmers, tiny and painted with the last dregs of daylight by the setting sun.

“Sure is,” Jesse breathes, and then, his voice dipping into a teasing lilt: “I knew you’d love it.”

Hanzo bites back the urge to fight back, but his boyfriend’s right. It’s lovely, even if Jesse’s looking very full of himself at the moment.

When they reach the top for the last time, Hanzo almost expects it to jerk to a stop like in some cheesy romance flick; he pictures the fair worker shrugging up at them, near-apologetic as Jesse’s hand crawls its way under his shirt.

He’s rocking an embarrassing half-chub in his shorts by the time they hit the ground again, and Jesse’s smirking like he  _ knows _ .

Of course he knows, what with the way his eyes wander.

“I’m tired now,” Jesse says, feigning a yawn as he clambers out of the swinging plastic seat. “Let’s get back to the car, sweet pea.”

“I’ll drive if you want,” Hanzo offers cordially, holding a hand out for the keys, and his boyfriend smiles.

“Oh, I don’t intend on driving home just yet.”

The look in his eyes nearly makes Hanzo’s stomach drop to the grass.

The backseat of Jesse’s truck is littered with Big Mac wrappers and the seats smell a little like tobacco and Old Spice, but Hanzo can’t find it in him to care as his boyfriend slams the door hard behind him and pushes two greedy hands down the back of his shorts, groping his ass needily.

“Barely any space back here, Jesse.” 

His voice comes out embarrassingly breathy.

“Who cares?”

He slides Hanzo’s shorts to his thighs and relocates to the floor, sitting square between his legs and looking quite pleased at the damp spot at the front of his boyfriend’s boxers.

“You’re looking sweeter than honey and twice as thick.”

Hanzo starts to laugh, but then sharp teeth tug at his thigh and it comes out more like a moan than he’d intended. 

“That’s right. Make a little noise for me.”

The scruff of his beard whispers against his skin as Jesse mouths over his dick hungrily.

Hanzo whines.

“Or a lotta noise,” he chuckles under his breath. “I’m not picky.”

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Hanzo says reluctantly.

“I’ve hardly gotten started.”

“I know, but Jesse, I don’t know if I can stay quiet.”

“‘Course you can. And to be crystal clear with you, darlin’, I don’t know if I can make it home without coming in my jeans.”

“There’s a motel down the road,” he says, his voice tight. “I need it too, Jesse. Bad.”

“Alright,” Jesse says shortly, and opens the door, not bothering to pull up Hanzo’s shorts. 

Before he can protest, the door is slammed shut.

He climbs into the driver’s seat and puts the keys in the ignition, staring at his boyfriend through the rearview mirror.

“Buckle up.”

Hanzo fumbles with the elastic of his shorts before reaching for the seatbelt, and Jesse raises his eyebrows as he clicks into place.

“Oh, and darlin’?” he says, his voice innocent. “Jerk off for me while you’re back there. Don’t be too distracting, though. Gotta keep my eyes on the road.”

Hanzo says something under his breath.

“Color?” Jesse asks, pulling out of the county fair parking lot.

“Green,” he says, and shoves a desperate hand into his pants.

“Good,” Jesse growls. “Don’t come.”

It’s a five minute drive and Hanzo jerks himself close to finishing within the first three. Jesse stops a fraction of a second too long at a stop sign and he practically loses it.

“Doin’ alright back there, sweetheart?”

“Just fine.”

“Peachy.” Jesse parks the car. “Hands outta your shorts until I’m back.”

Hanzo obediently slides his hands out of his boxers and clenches the fabric. He can feel his dick throbbing with the impatience to come. But he stays still.

When Jesse comes back with the key, they walk to the room in tense silence. 

“I think I’ll smoke a cig before we--” Jesse starts, his hand fumbling in his pocket for his lighter, and Hanzo makes a desperate sound that stops him in his tracks.

“Please,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Please, sir.”

And there it is, the word that makes Jesse’s mouth go dry with need.

“Can’t wait, huh?” 

“No, sir.”

“On the bed. Spread your legs.”

He unlocks the door and Hanzo strides in quickly, tearing his shirt over his head and kicking his shoes and shorts off. He’s naked on the sheets in under a minute, and Jesse whistles.

“Good boy.”

Jesse climbs onto the bed, the springs creaking. He grips Hanzo’s ass, spreading him further and teasing his hole languidly, dipping his thumb in lightly and circling the entrance.

“I’ve been patient enough.”

“You have,” Jesse agrees. “You’ve been so good for me, baby.”

Hanzo’s hips twitch against the sheets.

“Aw shit,” Jesse mutters. “Lube’s in the car. Lemme head down and I’ll be back lickety-split, honey, I promise ya--”

“I can take you on spit,” Hanzo interrupts him, his voice broken and hoarse. “Just, please, now.”

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure.”

Jesse pulls his own T-shirt off and works at the buckle of his belt. Tossing his jeans onto the floor, he leans over Hanzo. His body heat is almost too much in the summer air, even with the AC working its wonders, but Hanzo can’t bring himself to care. Thick fingers meet his lips.

“Suck ‘em for me,” Jesse says, and his mouth opens obediently.

He sucks messily, making his hand wet with spit until Jesse presses a kiss to his temple.

“You ready?”

He hums.

“Color?”

“Green.”

With one hand rubbing Hanzo’s side soothingly, he prods his fingers against his boyfriend’s hole, feeling him clench and then relax.

It doesn’t take long until he’s begging for another finger, and then for Jesse’s cock.

“You did so well in the car,” Jesse croons, tongue laving over his palm and then rubbing his erection, lining it up with Hanzo’s hole. “You want to come now, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The word comes out as a soft gasp.

He pushes in, slow, waiting for his boyfriend to adjust to his cock.

But Hanzo doesn’t want slow.

“Fast and rough,” he breathes. “I want it, Jesse, please.”

And Jesse isn’t cruel enough to deny him a request like that. He pulls out and slams forward hard enough that his cock slides down the cleft of Hanzo’s ass, missing its target.

“Fuck me, sir, please.”

And then he’s inside again, thrusting hard and fast, searching for that spot that makes his boyfriend tremble.

“Oh, fuck!”

_ And there it is _ , Jesse thinks, and aims for the gold.

Hanzo’s melted into a wordless mess of moans and gasps, thrusting into Jesse’s free hand like his life depends on it.

“Can I…?” he sobs, and Jesse suddenly realizes that he hasn’t given him permission.

“Of course you can, baby,”  he murmurs. “Go on, come for me.”

Hanzo spasms, fucking his fist wildly, his muscles clenching tight around Jesse’s dick. It’s enough to set him off, and Jesse grunts, finishing in his ass just as Hanzo slumps to the bed, cock spent and oversensitive.

He rolls over, his cum smearing over the sheets, and Jesse runs a thumb through it and sucks it into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut.

“Tastes like heaven,” he says.

“Does not,” Hanzo grumbles. “Tastes like jizz.”

“Almost heaven,” Jesse corrects himself.

“Sure.”

There’s a bit of a friendly scuffle that someone less mature would have probably referred to as a pillow fight.

Then they snuggle like real people do, flicking through the meager selection of TV channels and settling on some reality show bullshit that makes Jesse laugh. Hanzo kisses his shoulder and smiles. He falls asleep with the television humming in the background, the air conditioning blissful, and one arm slung across his boyfriend’s stomach.

“Night, sleepin’ beauty,” Jesse says.

**Author's Note:**

> every kudos and nice comment is a blessing y'all


End file.
